


Figure 8

by spellitwithyourpeas



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, prompt fic collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:42:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellitwithyourpeas/pseuds/spellitwithyourpeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of fics written for various prompts for Kastle Week<br/>Day 1: Firsts/Dark Star<br/>Day 2: Flutter/Bloodstream<br/>Day 3: Dreams/ Dark Times<br/>Day 4: AU/ Meet Me in the Woods<br/>Day 5: Storm/ Rear View<br/>Day 6: Burn/ You should know where I'm coming From<br/>Day 7: Lasts/ It Will Come Back<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Firsts/ Dark Star

**Author's Note:**

> Kastle Week put on by these lovely [folks](http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Day 1: Firsts/ Dark Star by Jaymes Young ( [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjT79oa59D0) )

 

_Now I don't love like I used to_  
_Oh but I've got stories I could tell you, if I want to_

_~Dark Star, Jaymes Young_

The first time they sleep together-it’s purely innocent. She’d given him the bed. He’d protested,as she expected.

She was patching up his shoulder when she said, “Look Frank. You’re injured and you look like shit. Take the damn bed.” When he started to turn around to argue to her face, she tapped him on the side of his head, “Hey-eyes forward, don’t make me ruin this!”

Frank complied with a tight lipped smile, holding in a laugh.

“Besides, I’m going to be pulling an all-nighter anyway.”

Karen finished the suture, “There.” She straightened and threw out her gloves. Frank leaned over his shoulder checking out the wound. “Not bad.”

“Yeah-well you’re lucky I got some lessons from a friend of Matt’s and that youtube exists or it would have looked a hell of a lot worse than it already does.”

“Don’t really care about looks as long as it holds.” He rebuffed.

Karen rolled her eyes, but smiled. Their banter was familiar and a comfort. “There’s some towels in the bathroom for you if you want to clean up.”

“Appreciate it.” It was a quiet thank you as he walked to the bathroom. Karen finished cleaning up her kitchen table and grabbed a cup of coffee before making her way back to the couch to settle in for a long night.

He’d been around a couple of times before. Always gone before she woke up.

10 minutes later he came out of the bathroom, no traces of blood, just bruises. He stood awkwardly holding the towels. Karen set her laptop aside, “Here, I can take those.” She led him to the bedroom and placed the towels in the hamper.

 “Get some rest Frank.” She turned to go back into the living room.

“Thank you Ma’am. You kick me out if you end up turning in early”. Karen laughed over her shoulder as she readjusted on the couch, “Not likely, but will do.”

It had been a difficult night for him. He didn’t tell her that. Didn’t always give her give the details and she never pestered. Just accepted the silence. He’d been told he’d had a way of reading people, but  Karen Page had a way about her too. Tonight had been one of those nights.  Going after some of the worst kind of scum-the kind that hurt children-made his blood boil and pulling the trigger even more satisfying.

He settled on the bed, unlacing his boots. Rest didn’t come easy to him. But tonight as he laid down he felt the waves of sleep rush over him.

Karen worked through the night. Dozing off and on. She woke back up to see Frank tossing and turning. Muttering incoherently. Nightmares or memories. Probably both. She’d expected this and walked into the bedroom. The desire to wake him was mixed with a weary hesitation. Karen walked to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge, “Frank” she tentatively reached over.

 He woke up before she touched him.

Eyes wild and breathing fast, Frank glanced over at her. He settled somewhat as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Did I hurt you?” Gruff and ready to take responsibility.

 Karen looked him straight in the eye, voice firm.  “No, you didn’t.”

Frank swallowed, grimacing, “Good, that’s uh, that’s good. Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb your work.’ He tries to avoid her gaze, but she doesn’t let him. “Hey-look at me.” He looks up to see her blue eyes steady. “You didn’t”. Her tone lightened, “You even got a solid three and a half hours.”

“Mmm.”

“That good for you?” Karen asks quietly. Frank nods, “Never was good at sleeping. Even before my time overseas. After it just got worse.”

She joins him, scooting over on the bed, and leaned against the headboard. “I can imagine.”

He smiles and she’s intrigued. “What?”

Frank shrugs, “Back at home we’d have a whole routine you know, with the kids.”

“Tell me about it.” Noticing the twinkle, the small spark of life in his eyes when he spoke about his family.

“We’d get the kids washed up, in the bath- hell they never wanted to get out. Their fingers would get so wrinkly. Lisa always thought it was gross.” He chuckled and she joins. “Yeah, after we’d have to coax them to brush their teeth. My wife-she was always better with that. More patient.”

She could picture it. Him-happy and carefree.

“Me, I was better with the stories. I’d read Frank Jr.’s first and then Lisa’s. Frank Jr. always liked to hear different stories, you know? Always chosing a different book. Not Lisa.” His tone turned wistful.

Frank quieted and then started to pull himself out of bed, “I should go.”

Karen grabbed his arm, “Stay.” The words came out fast before she’d processed it.

“Ma’am I don’t think-,”

“Just stay.” He’s too tired to put up a fight. He settles back onto the bed and Karen does too. She’s out before Frank had a chance to say anything else. He turned over to his side, and faced her. Her blond hair still wound tightly in a bun. Memories flood back of Maria. The last person he shared a bed with. Frank falls asleep with the image in his mind.

Karen woke first to the birds chirping outside her window. It took  her a second to realize that she was being held, well, spooned, actually. Frank  snored softly in her ear and sleepily nuzzled the back of her neck. Karen stayed wrapped in his arms, dozing on and off for a few more hours before waking alone.

Pushing herself out of bed, Karen called out a tentative, “Frank?”. When she walked into the  living room, the first thing she noticed was the cup of coffee and bagel on her table with a sticky note next to the plate. 

She smiled as she read the two words written in tight scrawl.

“Thank you”

For the patch up. For the bed. For helping him remember. For the moment of peace.


	2. Flutter/Bloodstream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close calls and cabin visits (also featuring Brett and Max!) 
> 
> "Karen’s heart fluttered in fear. He wouldn’t go down without a fight and even Frank-with all that he personified- was not immortal. A bullet could still get through that thick skull of a second time. Execution style for the executioner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kastle Week put on by these lovely [folks](http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Day 2: Flutter/ Bloodstream by Transviolet ( [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPdFQtRILsU) )

Karen rubbed her eyes in frustration at her desk, lost in thought. She loved her job. Loved the purpose it gave her and the thrill of finally putting all the pieces together, but it was all still new territory. She knew how lucky she was though-this position was a one in a million chance.

The sound of impact broke her concentration and she jumped when the intern Tony smacked a hand on her open door after nearly colliding with it, “Karen! Hey! Turn on channel 7! Police think they got the Punisher!” his eyes wide and excited. Before she could make a sound he was gone on to tell the next person.

Her hands shook as she turned on the TV. The scene showed a reporter outside a building near the pier. Swat and police in the background.

“Police suspect Frank Castle aka the Punisher-previously presumed dead, to be inside the building now. Police now think this to be the current headquarters of the gang who was behind the deadly shoot out yesterday that claimed the lives of innocent bystanders- Rebecca Walters and her son Charlie. As you can see swat is on the scene and preparing to enter the building. Stay tuned as we deliver updates to this developing story.”

Oh, God -Frank. She hadn’t seen him since earlier in the week. He rarely disclosed his plans, only sharing information after the fact-having their own little debriefing sessions. She’d purposefully not mentioned the event that day. He’d given no indication of his plan to hit them. It didn’t need to be said. 

Karen’s heart fluttered in fear. He wouldn’t go down without a fight and even Frank-with all that he personified- was not immortal. A bullet could still get through that thick skull of a second time. Execution style for the executioner.

She quickly gathered her things, not bothering to turn off the TV as she rushed out of her office to get to her car. Karen ran into Ellison in the hall and quickly tried to compose herself, but he just shook his head, saying. “I heard. Go”

It didn’t take her long to drive over. Karen Page was not religious, but she was praying now, lips moving silently. _Please, not today. I can’t lose him. Not today._

She parked and jogged over, joining the other fleet of press standing as close as they could get. Swat had already gone in.

 No sounds of gunshots. Karen turned to a reporter standing next to her, “Hey-what’s the latest?”

The guy gave her a once over, and looked like he was about to blow her off, but he sighed before confirming her suspicion. “Not much. Swat just went in about 2 minutes ago.”

“Any victims?” If he took out his marks then he could be long gone-unless he’d gotten hit hard back. In deeper shit than he expected. With this case-an innocent family caught in the crossfires- she expected his cool composure to be cracked. Cracks caused weakness and weaknesses lead to mistakes. She just hoped they weren’t fatal.

The man huffed, “Look lady, I know about as much as you do and I’ve been here way longer.” He said begrudgingly.

“Thanks”.

She waited. Palms sweaty and breathing fast. Adrenaline pumping through her system. There was movement. Swat was coming out.  

Karen looked at the police standing on the side and saw a familiar face, “Brett!” she pushed her way through the crowd. Brett looked up and shook his head in recognition. “Ms. Page. I’m not surprised.”

“Well?”

“I can’t disclose…”

“Off the record then.”

He sighed. “No sign of Castle. Plenty of bodies though. We missed him.”

Brett didn’t have to continue. Karen knew they’d be locking down streets, hoping he wouldn’t get far.

“Thanks Brett.” She turned to leave.

“Hey Karen, stay safe ok?”

She waved, “Will do.”

Her heart rate steadied as she walked back to the car. She didn’t expect to see him for a few days. No matter his physical state- he wouldn’t be coming to her for a patch up. Wouldn’t risk leading the police right to her.

So Karen drove back to the office, sat down at her desk, and resumed her story with the TV on mute. She’d glance up occasionally to check for a change in the headline. Her hands still had the faint trace of a tremor as she typed.

When she was back in her apartment. She called the number she’d memorized, muttering “Pick up. Pick up” under her breath.

She heard the click of the call going through. Silence on the other end. Karen spoke first. “Are you ok?” her grip tight on her phone was hard.

Frank exhaled. His gruff voice broke the silence, “Not a scratch on me.” She sighed in relief.

“Where are you?”

“The cabin”

She paused. “Look Frank, I don’t want to put you in any danger- if you think there’s any real risk I won’t come, but I want to see you.” She shuffled her foot nervously, almost like she could feel his presence in the room. There was a long pause and silent, except for the sounds of the city outside.

“Tomorrow”.

“See you then”. She hung up feeling relieved.

She’d parked off in an area that looked like a turn off and walked the distance up the cabin. The air was crisp in the woods. Memories of Vermont floated through her mind. The quiet. The feeling like the rest of the world had frozen and she was stuck in limbo. The exact reason she’d left.

Karen had never been before; he’d only referenced it in a few conversations. His “home away from home” (said mockingly of course) for when the city was just a little too hot on his trail.

The leaves crunched under her boots and the closer she got, the more the apprehension bubbled to the surface. God, she shouldn’t have called him. Shouldn’t have freaked out. Should’ve waited it all out.

Too fucking late now.

Karen came up to the cabin and heard the low growl of Max followed by a firm “Hush”. The door opened a quarter of the way as Frank’s gaze searched the perimeter, before he ushered her into the small cabin.

Nothing but stillness and the small home tucked away, hidden by the trees.

Karen took in the cramped cabin before she looking up and assessed him. Avoiding the contact she’d initiated.

There was a small cot in the corner-the bed was made with military precision; old habits die hard. Next to the bed was a chair and table with a burner and canned food lined up next to it. An opened thermos. The scent of fresh coffee wafting through the tiny space. Guns and tools were laid out near the far wall. He was in the process of cleaning them.

And then there was Max lying peacefully in the corner. He was a sweetheart and she hadn’t been surprised that Frank owned such a dog. Recently, Karen had started picking up treats at the store. When Frank was on his way out from one of their meetings, she’d shove the bag in his hands. He’d always roll his eyes, shake his head, but the small smile said all she needed to know. The gesture was appreciated.

She was as fond of Max as she was towards his owner.

Karen finally met Frank’s gaze. She may have made the request to come, but her presence here was on his own terms.  

His face was grim, faded bruises knit in his flesh. Relief and the ever-present fear of the unknown caused the butterflies in her stomach to reawaken and tears to well up.

She hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his and breathed him in. “You had me worried for there a second.” It was sudden. She’d blame it on pent up nervous energy and the fact that she was just a hugger in general.

Frank froze. Hands raising in surprise before they circled her wrists, lowering her arms and breaking her embrace. As gentle as his movements were, it still hurt.

His voice was rough and short, “You shouldn’t be”, and he guided her over to the cot before sitting in the chair across from her.

“Yeah, I know”.

Frank looked away. His hands were clasped though his index finger tapped restlessly and his tone was even as he spoke. “The other day was a close call”, Frank glanced back up at her with a raised brow. She sat on the bed tensely, hands gripping the edge.

“It sure as shit ain’t gonna be the last.”  

Karen sat still-knowing where the conversation was heading. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I told you to stay away, to get away from all of this before. You’d be better off…staying away. This shit isn’t going to get any better” his voice was hard, “You deserve a normal life, some stability you know? Husband with a 9 to 5, mm? maybe some kids, white picket fence-all of it. Not wondering where my ass is and-,”

Karen released the breath she’d been holding and interrupted “Jesus Frank. Stop trying to push me away.” She shook her head in annoyance. “I mean, I get it and appreciate the sentiment. I do.” Her words sounded dry. Tired. She’d been fighting this same battle with herself for a while now. The conversation was familiar.

“But my life hasn’t been stable for a while now. That started long before you came into the picture.”

Frank was quiet as she continued, “I don’t know what this is.” The small laugh she gave was humorless and her smile brittle. “But I’ve walked away from you once already and regretted it. I’m not going to do it again. I won’t.” It was a firm declaration.

The two sat still. Mirror images of each other.  

Maybe it was a mistake. To stay and not take the exit he’d given her. But it was her mistake to make. She kept coming back to him like she was somehow tied to this man’s fate. Time would pass or they’d stray too far and she’d feel that pull. She didn’t really know what to think of it all. He was a murderer and he wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t ask him to. The truth which she sought so vehemently and craved seemed to always come with some degree of violence. Frank had an unmatched level of honesty to him and she knew he cared about her, but those feelings were held on a tight leash for fear of the consequences if he loosened his grip and lost control.

After everything he’s been through, how do you come back to normalcy? You just don’t. Karen understood that.

Frank would never admit the relief he felt when she pushed back. He wanted all those things for her. Desperately wanted her safe. He didn’t have friends, had but a few allies. But if he was being honest with himself he wanted her in his life-even if it was a real FUBAR of a situation.

She’d talked about stability? He was never going to be stable again. His whole world had tilted and he felt like he was fighting to stay standing. But Karen Page had a way of shifting it back into place. At least for a moment.

He broke the silence, “Alright then. Worth a try,” chair creaking as he leaned back and settled in.

Karen let out a soft chuckle, the tension fading, “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily Frank Castle.” She cleared her throat, “So you really made it out without a scratch?”

He smirked, “Yes, Ma’am.”

She stood up from the cot, “Really?” His eyes darted over her, uncertain. She reached her hand up to trace the dark bruises under his eyes. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you without these.”

“Don’t know if you ever will.” Frank met her gaze unabashed. Her blue eyes flickered. His were unwavering. Karen felt like she was dancing close to an edge. Any moment she could fall. She started to lean in-

Karen’s phone rang.

The two broke apart.

The moment shattered. Frank stood as she went and shuffled through her purse, finding her phone. “Shit. It’s work. Supposed to be my day off.” He was leaning against the wall observing her. “I- I should go.” He nodded. They walked the short distance to the door, which he held open. She paused on her way out, looking up at him. “Take care Frank.” He gave a small smile, “I’ll see you around Ms. Page.”

The drive back into the city was long enough for Karen to contemplate about the fact that she had come very close to kissing The Punisher and the ground that she was treading on was unsteady to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :) Find me on [tumblr](http://lightofpage.tumblr.com/)


	3. Dreams/Dark Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of drinking alone, drunk assholes, and talks of dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kastle Week put on by these lovely [folks](http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Day 3: Dreams/ Dark Times by The Weeknd & Ed Sheeran

Sometimes after a long day of dead ends Karen will head over to Josie’s- alone. She’d sit at a bar stool, nurse a glass of scotch and slip into a state of numbness. Tonight she’d asked for enough top off’s that even Josie raised an eyebrow.

Karen waved a hand at the stoic bartender, “I’m fine.”

“Sure sweetheart,” Josie’s reply dripped with heavy sarcasm.

 Karen massaged her temples and sighed. Yes, the better thing to have done would have been to head straight home. The thought conjures a soft voice to mind. _It’ll get better tomorrow Karebear._ God she hadn’t heard that voice in so long. Years. Long before heading to the city.

Karen glanced around the bar. It was well occupied tonight. People were playing pool and her heart clenched at sight. The memories of simpler times. The jokes and laughter. It always seemed the three of them were just scraping the surface. Too many secrets buried underneath. She knew better now.

Tossing back the last of the scotch, Karen was set on the idea of heading home and hitting the mattress face first.

“Can I buy you another?”

Karen looked over her shoulder at the guy smiling at her. Tall, dark, and handsome. Just her type. She might have considered it had she not noticed the smile turn to a slight smirk-full of expectation.

Karen hadn’t been on the date since Matt. By the looks of this guy, he wasn’t looking for anything long term. Neither was she, but not tonight. She wasn’t that desperate yet.

“Actually I was just leaving.” He dropped the smile and grabbed her arm as she started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mon, one drink?”

Karen yanked her arm away, “Don’t touch me.”

He followed her, “I can’t just let someone as sweet as you just walk away.” He was as sarcastic as he was persistent. He cradled her elbow and tried to steer her back to the bar.

“Get your hands off me.” Karen warned. The guy didn’t take the hint.

“Why you gotta be like that?”

She ripped her arm away again, knocking her elbow into his nose.

The man howled and clutched his nose. “Fuckin Bitch!” blood dripping through his fingers.

“Sorry Josie, I know the rules!” she called out to the bartender. Josie raised a glass, “It’s ok honey, looked like an accident to me.”

Karen exited quickly and started back to her apartment, letting out a heavy sigh. Tonight was not her night. She may have been tipsy, but she could tell when she was being followed. Shit. Shit. Goddammit Karen. She glanced over her shoulder, sure enough. The shithead from the bar was behind her and getting closer.

The street was empty. “Fuck”.

“Hey, bitch! Hold up.”

Karen drew the .380 out of her purse and faced him. The sight of the gun caused him to slow. “Whoa, whoa” he raised his hands.

“Stay the fuck away from me. Why the hell does it take a gun in your face to understand the word no?” She was angry and breathing hard.

The man started to back up, “I’m sorry…shit”. He turned, eyes wide and started jogging back down the street, continually glancing over his shoulder in fear.

Karen took some deep breaths, holding back tears of anger. She shoved the gun back in her purse and pulled out her phone and called a taxi.

Once inside her apartment she bolted the lock in and leaned her head against the door, letting her purse drop to the floor. She let the tears fall now.

_C’mere Karebear let me get a look at you._ Her mother would always pull her in close and reassure her when she’d start to cry silently. Shoulders shaking as she sat at the kitchen table. Kids were just plain mean.  Her mother would hug her and Karen felt secure. Loved and validated. _You’re a Page, Karen. Don’t give them that power over you. They’re just words._

Karen angrily brushed the tears away, switching on the kitchen light, muttering to herself “Next time I’ll just drink at home.”

She started unbuttoning her blouse as she kicked off her heels. There was a quick succession of taps at the window. Right-it was the first Wednesday of the month. They’d gotten better about planning their meet ups. After the first time he’d sat waiting in her apartment, she told him straight up that he had to stop showing up without some warning. “Not just for my own sanity, but let’s…let’s just be smart about all this.” His information always provided good leads. She’d hate for something as trivial as a nosy neighbor to put an end to it all.

Walking to the fire escape window recognizing Frank’s looming frame, she opened it, “Hi Frank”.

“Ma’am, ok if I come in?” She gestured with a flick of her wrist and he crouched and came through the small space. He took a seat at the kitchen table as she went and gathered her purse by the door, blouse still undone.

“What happened?” his tone was even. Karen took a seat next to him, confused, “What-,” he pointed at the blood on the sleeves of her blouse. “Oh!” as she twisted her arm to get a look, “shit-I liked this shirt.” She sighed, “Blood’s not mine.”

Frank relaxed in the chair. “Oh yeah, do I need to head back out and finish what you started?”  he nodded his head towards the window. He said it half-jokingly, but the other half had an edge of steel.

Karen scoffed, “It’d be a waste of your time.Just some shithead at Josie’s who wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Frank’s jaw clenched and fingers twitched at that. “I scared him off with the .380 and took a cab home.”

“Mmm. Do me a favor? Next time call the cab first. Here.” He handed over a folder. Karen opened it, glancing through the contents, “This about the Ward case?”

“Yep. I’ve got shipping and receiving schedules too.”

She looked up in disbelief. “How did you get this?”

Frank shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. I know you have to be careful with how you use the info I give. There’s a contact in there who I think would be willing to talk to you.”

She nodded and smiled, “This is going to be great. Thank you Frank. I mean it.”

It’d been a long time since he’d dealt with gratitude. He ducked his head, giving a small nod.

Karen returned to the kitchen and turned on the cold water. She shimmies out of the blouse, leaving her in her cami, and starts to run the stained garment under the water. She stares in a daze as the water takes a pink hue.

Frank hears her laugh. It’s a rare thing. This one, not laced with any annoyance, disbelief, or anger-just a laugh. “What?”

Karen grinned, glancing his way, “It’s silly. I just- you know, as a kid you have dreams about what you want to be when you grow up? I was just thinking all the late nights, writing, researching corrupt city officials? It’s just not what I pictured.”

Frank chuckled softly, “You’re telling me.” He scrunched up his nose, “what uh, what’d you want to be?”

She looked up from rubbing the blood out, and smiled, “I always wanted to be a ballerina. Cliché- I know.” She rolled her eyes. “You?”

“Firefighter.” He paused and shrugged, “seems like I’m just starting the fires now.”

Karen shuts off the faucet and drapes the blouse over a chair before sitting back down. “Why’d you want to be one?”

He laughs, “Nothing deep about it, just liked the trucks, the dog, the idea of sliding down the fireman’s pole.”

Karen rested her chin on her palm, “Yeah, my mom, she always loved the idea of me and ballet. Even in high school- when I switched from ballet to cheer leading. She’d always say, ‘you could go back to ballet’.”

“Cheerleader?” Frank pointed out, brows raised.

“Hey, it’s harder than it looks! Don’t judge,” Frank held his hands up in mock surrender and they’d settled back into a comfortable quiet.

“It’s my mom’s birthday today,” she mentioned quietly staring out the window.

“Is she…?” Frank asked softly.

Karen jerked back, shifting slightly in her chair, “No, no she’s still alive. I just haven’t- we don’t really talk anymore.” She cleared her throat, “Anyway, hence the multiple drinks at Josie’s and poor decisions. But this,” she points to the folder, “just made my night.”

“Glad to be of service.” His phone beeps. “Shit, I gotta go. Let me know if that contact works out.” He said, heading back to the fire escape.

“I will. Be careful out there. Don’t start any fires.”

Frank nodded and gave her a small wink, “No promises.”


	4. Bounty Hunter AU/Meet Me in The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have seen what the darkness does.  
> Say goodbye to who I was.  
> I ain't never been away so long.  
> Don't look back them days are gone.  
> Follow me into the endless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kastle Week put on by these lovely [folks](http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Day 4: Meet Me in The Woods by Lord Huron ( [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5axbaGBVto) )

Frank Castle was well known by criminals on the run in New York. He’d even earned himself the nickname of “The Punisher.” When he first heard about it, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t of fan of the dramatic flair that some of the other guys in the business. Frank kept did his job. Did it well and kept his head down. He preferred the solitude that came with the job and the purpose. After everything he’d been through he needed that.

Frank wouldn’t lie though-bringing in these guys, crossing names off an endless list- was satisfying.

When he saw Karen Page’s information float through his pile, he thought it’d be a nice break from the typical scumbags he picked up. She was a person of interest in a pretty high profile case. The murder of James Wesley, right hand man to Wilson Fisk-one of the city’s most well-known businessmen.  

Ms. Page had no record (but hell, what a start).

Frank had expected it to be easy.

He was mistaken. She was pretty good at covering her tracks.

Fisk’s name was whispered in the city. Revered and feared. He was absolutely involved in shady business, but no one had the balls to bust him.

Maybe she learned a thing or two as a secretary at his company.

But he’d found her, holed up in some shitty motel in Hell’s Kitchen. Frank was staking out in his truck-coffee and all. Waiting to confirm his suspicions. He tensed up when he saw a slim figure turn the corner towards the building.  She glanced around before walking in. He laughed. The hoody she’d pulled over didn’t hide the flash of blond hair.

Frank followed her in at a distance, quietly heading up the stairs. Didn’t want to spook her. He peered around the corner of the hall and saw the door to her room shut. Perfect. No balconies to this place. One window. Too high up to risk jumping.

No other way out other than the door he was currently in front of.

He knocked, speaking low but clear, “Ms. Page. My name’s Frank Castle. You skipped bail and I’m here to bring you in. I’d like to do this the easy way.”

There was silence and a long pause before he heard her unlock and release the chain. The picture didn’t do her justice. Her blue eyes were piercing as she gave him a hard stare, “You got some kind of id?”

Frank chuckled pulling out his card. Her gaze flickering between him and the card before opening the door. He walked in, scanning the room. When he saw the gun laying on the bed, a hand hovered over the hostler at his side, “You expecting trouble?”

Her startle and haunted gaze gave him all the answers he needed. That’s when he noticed the dark bags under her eyes and the faint tremor of her hands. The ex-marine in him recognized the details.

“Whatever you heard about me- it’s not true ok? You don’t know the kind of people I was working for.” Her tone wavering in control.

“Look doesn’t matter. I’m just here to bring you in. I’m sorry for your troubles ma’am. I am, but you shouldn’t have run, it ain’t going to help your case.”

She nodded, staring at the carpet “Sure.”

Frank was about to the ball rolling. He doesn’t usually talk this much-shit, he doesn’t do emotional, not since his family…

He stops the thought.

Karen starts to gather her things with a heavy sigh. No point in running now. She stayed away from the gun on the bed, noting how Frank had his hand resting comfortably on the piece at his side.

“Here’s how this works….” Frank stopped in the middle of his sentence at hearing a faint sound-so familiar. He acted immediately, knocking Karen to the floor, shielding her with his body as the bullets started to tear the room apart. She gasped, curling under him as debris flew. There was a quick succession of rapid fire.  

The end to the violence was abrupt and her ears rang . Karen didn’t realize she’d been stuttering out “Thank yous” till Frank untangled himself from her, crouching low. “Yeah, sure lady. Jesus, what a shitstorm!” He felt her shaking.

Frank made for the door, glancing back with a sigh when he saw the delay. Karen stuffed the files that had been strewn across the bed with the gun into her bag.

“You wanna wait for round two? Lets go.”

She scooped everything up angrily before following him out the room and back out to his car. Karen reluctantly got in. What the hell had her life come to?

Frank started to drive, glancing at the rearview, intent on catching any sign of a tail.

“I think it’s safe to say you pissed Fisk off.” So much for an easy case.

She gave a shaky laugh, “That would be an understatement.”

Karen had been working as a secretary at Union Allied for a year or so. She’d established herself as an efficient employee, but she still blended in with the masses. She’d overheard things she wasn’t supposed to, been tasked with copying files she probably shouldn’t have read as closely as she did (or made her own copies). Her curiosity had been her downfall. When James Wesley stopped by unannounced one night? Well, that’s when shit hit the fan.

Frank listened quietly as she spoke. This was not the typical M.O.

When she finished, his tone was serious. “So it was self-defense. Why didn’t you go to the police?”

“Fisk has everyone in his pocket. I wasn’t sure who I could trust.”

Frank hummed in understanding. Keeping his eyes ahead, he reached back and then handed her a red thermos. Karen took it with a questioning look.

Frank rolled his eyes, “It’s just coffee. Might settle your nerves.” She lets out a small laugh, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip,relishing the warmth, as she watched the city pass by.

Karen broke the silence, quietly asking “Where are we going?”

“15th precinct. You said you don’t trust cops- well Brett’s one of the good guys. He can help.” Frank sighed, “It’d look better if you went in on your own accord. I’ll come in, give my statement as a witness to” he gave a wave of his hand, “whatever the hell that just was.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, breath hitching in her chest. She was exhausted. More than she’d ever been and the unexpected kindness suddenly felt overwhelming.

“Thank you Mr. Castle.”

“Yeah, uh, sure- here,” he handed her a tissue. That’s one thing he learned from Maria-always have tissue, hand sanitizer, and snacks in the car at all times.

He cleared his throat, “And it’s Frank-enough of this ‘Mr. Castle’ shit.”

She sniffed, “Sure, yeah” dabbing her eyes, she laughed, “Where were you a week ago? Could’ve used the support.”

He gave a small “hmph” in response.

The car stopped and Frank shut off the engine. Karen looked up, heart racing. The sight of parked cop cars sparking memories. She caught Frank’s eye. He looked calm. His gaze steady.

For knowing him all of 40 minutes, she felt comforted by his presence. She was shocked by the ground covered in the short span of time. Karen took a breath before leaving the car. Frank followed behind her as they walked into the precinct. Her voice was soft as she asked at the front desk to see Brett.

When Brett came around the corner, his brows shot up when he saw Frank and Karen. “Something tells me I’m going to need more coffee before we get started.”

In the grey interrogation room, Karen took a shuddering breath before she recounted the events of the past week. Brett sighed, setting down his pen after taking jotted notes. “I’m going to have to go make some calls. Frank, you’re free to go, but you’ll be wanting to stay in town though, being a witness and all.”

Karen relaxed after the door closed behind him, rubbing her eyes. Her chances were still slim, but better than they were an hour ago. Frank sensed her uneasiness. It was a messy situation. He didn’t envy her, but he knew messy. He reached over and grabbed the extra pen and pad of paper Brett left in the room and pulled out his phone, scrolling through a few numbers before starting to write.

His voice rough, “Look-I know a good pair of lawyers and a journalist who might be able to give you some good publicity.”

“Why are you doing this?” It sounded harsher than she intended and he looked up and paused.

“Let’s just say I’ve dealt with some shit in the past. Had some pretty terrible days and finding good people-one’s you can trust. Makes all the difference. I believe you so,” He shrugged. “Besides, I’m a sucker for that karma crap.” Frank clicked the pen and slid the sheet over to her.

She glanced at the unfamiliar names before glancing up at him. Frank looked tough as nails. Someone she would’ve averted her gaze from had she passed him on the street. But there was something in his face. An understanding.

“If I get out of this, I owe you. I know a really good coffee joint-it’s on me.”

He laughed pushing back the chair to stand, “Sure thing ma’am.”

The next couple of months dragged on. With help, Karen’s name was cleared and the case was settled. Ben Ulrich, the second name on the list, had been more hesitant to get involved. But when he did, he was committed to the end. They poured over all they could find on Fisk. Her lawyers took notice and took Fisk to court.

It was definitely questionable when she got a job as secretary at Nelson and Murdock, but Karen had been through too much to care.

One day, on her way to the small office, she stopped by to grab coffee. She was trying, unsuccessfully, to balance the three cups when a familiar voice said, “Let me give you a hand.”

She looked up and smiled, “Frank!” He hadn’t changed. Except this time, she studied him in detail. One of the first things she did when her case was settled was to google Frank Castle. Horrified, she sifted through the articles about the shooting in the park. It had been one of the most tragic cases of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Ma’am.” His smile was fond. Frank had followed her case closely.

“What are you doing here?” She blurted out and then blushed.

“Guess we share a taste for the same coffee.” He gave a small chuckle, noticing the flush in her cheeks.

Karen wondered if they had anything else in common.

Turns out they were both dog people. On their second date he introduced her to his pitt, Max. Frank watched her smile, giggling at the dog basking in the attention and it brought the memories back. Him-carefree, laughing with his wife as they watched their kids chase Max in the yard. It both broke him and left him longing for more.

The first time they kiss, it was soft and slow. They were sipping coffee, sitting on the steps to her building. There was the tell-tale pause in conversation. And when his thumb traced her cheek, she leaned into his touch. Lips meet and it was completely unhurried. Karen would later admit it was the best kiss she’s had.

The first time they fuck it’s long due. Frank breathed heavy into her neck, setting the pace to her sighs. Her legs wrapped around him, one hand on the edge of the counter with a white knuckled grip, the other on the back of his neck, urging him on with breathy moans.

Running had been a shit idea. There were people in the city worth trusting and willing to fight for her-she just didn’t know it. But Karen would never say she regretted it. Doing so would have been wishing that she’d never met Frank. And she would never wish that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say I BARELY did any fact checking…sorry about inaccuracies and stuff I just wanted it done ;)  
> Thank you for reading! find me on [tumblr](http://lightofpage.tumblr.com/)


	5. Storm/Rear View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nobody can totally erase their past. I mean, somewhere out there, there has to be a piece of paper, a witness… the truth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kastle Week put on by these lovely [folks](http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Day 5: Storm/ Rear View by Zayn ( [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITT5JzQJbkA) )

  
Heard about all the things you've done  
And all the wars that you've been in  
Heard about all the love you lost  
It was over before it began  
Heard about all the miles you've gone  
Just to start again

Her past caught up with her.

She was blindfolded. Her mouth taped and wrists zip tied tight behind her back.

She was scared. Terrified. Her heart pounding like she’d just ran a sprint. The tips of her fingertips tingled as she strained against bind.

Karen struggled to control her breathing in the back of the van. She remembered leaving the office tonight, unlocking the door to her car, and then being hit from behind. Her keys and purse probably strewn on the gravel.  

She’d woken up in the van head aching. Her mind raced through the stories she’d been working on, anything to warrant her current predicament. Nothing of late.

The rain pelted hard on the roof of the van like stray bullets. She shivered. Each tap felt like a warning. Her own foreshadowing for what was to come.

The van stopped abruptly and she heard him walking around to the back. Karen resisted as the man dragged her out onto the wet asphalt. His grip hard and bruising. He kicked her in the back of her knees. She cried out, the sound muffled by the tape.

Karen felt the cold metal pressed against her temple and her blindfold was removed. There was nothing spectacular about her abductor. He was tall, muscular, and wearing a ski mask.

She looked out the corner of her eye. They were behind some buildings, on the edge of the city, water crashing on the bank.

Oh god. She squeezed her eyes shut tight.

The man tisked, “Keep them open or I’ll draw this out. Painfully so.”

Karen’s opened her eyes and stared up at him angrily. “Mr. Fisk gave me specific directions. He wanted you to see exactly what’s coming to you. Said he wishes he could be the one doing this.” His tone was professional and short. It was all just business.

She couldn’t tell because of the mask, but she was pretty sure his expression lacked the sneer of James Wesley. No, if this man looked the way he sounded? He’d be sporting a look of boredom.

_“I can take care of myself”._  The phrase seemed mocking now.

It had never been to ease the fears of Foggy or Matt. It was always to ease her own.

Tonight though her hands were literally tied. The wind howled and she braced herself, trying to physically steel herself.

She felt helpless like the night she’d spent in the precinct in hand cuffs.

She refused to go down as weak as she felt rather, she grabbed hold of the fear with two hands-metaphorically speaking- and choked it. Karen squared her shoulders, looked up meeting the blank stare of the man. It was the only form of defiance she could manage.  

Fisk wanted her to see her imminent death. Wanted her scared and trembling.

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Well look at that. Ah, well. Let’s finish this shall we?” He adjusted his grip, finger tracing the trigger.

The shot fired and blood spattered Karen’s cheek as she felt the tremor echo through her. Her body recoiling from the shock as the man went down in front of her, slumping to his side. His eyes wide and glassy. She lowered herself slowly till she sat on the back of her heels.

The duct tape still covered her mouth, but she laughed. Her body shook hard from the hysterical fit.

Two minutes later Frank was behind her cutting through the zip ties, freeing her wrists. Karen peeled off the duct tape, wincing.

“I’ve got you, c’mon, let’s get you up.” He lifted her by her arms, helping her to stand before he was in front of her. His rough hands cupping her face as he searched her up and down for injuries. She still had the faint trace of laughter running through her and her lips trembled.

“It’s jus-It’s just shock” she gasped out, her hands fluttering as he gently wiped off the blood on her cheek.

“I know. It’ll pass Karen, just breathe” He said it calmly and steady. She closed her eyes, always finding comfort in the deep rumble of his voice. An equal match for the thunder breaking out above them. He shook out of his jacket and wrapped it around her. “Let’s go to my truck, unless you need to check out-,” he nodded his head towards the body a few feet away.

She shook her head quickly, “No- I already know who sent him.”

He nodded and steadied her as they walked back to his truck parked at the end of an alley. Frank opened the passenger door for her, offering a hand as she pulled herself up onto the seat.  She felt numb staring out at the raindrops racing down the windshield.

Frank started the car wordlessly, turning the heat up, before starting to drive. She rested her head against the window watching the city change to open road. Keeping his eyes on the road he took her hand and held it low. She startled slightly at the sudden touch, glancing down, smiling faintly before turning back to the window.

Quiet never bothered Frank. It’s how he knew the fight was over. Just him and the echo.

But if it was who he suspected, he knew his actions tonight wouldn’t be a final solution.

He was no guard dog. Frank knew she’d never ask that of him, but it seemed that they were always circling one another-after the same story and mark.  The close proximity as familiar as watching the back of a fellow soldier in the field.

With everything she did for him, he couldn’t justify standing on the sidelines.

He was rattled by what ifs. What if he’d gotten held up? What if he’d eased up on his routine of checking in?

And the realization that this wouldn’t be the last time she’d be held at gunpoint-hell it certainly wasn’t the first-made his blood boil.

“I should have been there sooner.”

Karen looked up at him incredulous, processing his words. “Frank you saved my life. Again. You’re not going to hear me complaining.”

Frank continued as if he hadn’t heard her, eyes scanning the road ahead, “This guy, he had a second-a sniper- up top as back up. Found him when I went to line up the shot.”

“Yeah, well-Fisk has always been thorough.” She’d said it dryly, matter of fact.

He still wasn’t looking at her. But she saw his jaw clench and the white of his knuckles as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

He didn’t want this. To have his fate tied to hers. It was not a matter he took lightly.

In all this, Karen was the exception. Frank regretted the allowance every day, but she was out of his control. She’d aligned herself with him and the knot had been tied with bloody hands. Try as he might he couldn’t loosen it.

“You said it was just you and Wesley that night, yeah? How would Fisk have known it was you?”

She sighed, examining their intertwined fingers, “I don’t know. Must’ve connected the dots.” She felt like she was waking up from a restless sleep.

Frank was tense. She noticed it whenever Fisk was mentioned. Karen had disclosed the events surrounding Wesley a while ago now. Frank was insistently perceptive and she always felt stripped bare under his gaze. He never berated her with questions, he just waited patiently for her to approach him-on her own terms.

He hung his head when she’d whispered the name. Wilson fucking Fisk.

When he told her the details of his escape, Frank felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He half expected her to respond in anger.

Frank would have understood that. In his life he had few regrets, but doing Fisk’s bidding was at the top of the list.

But she had held his gaze. “ _Frank-hey, look at me. You’re not the same as him. I don’t blame you for what you did to get out.”_  He scoffed when she said it, so plainly. “ _That so? What I did-taking out Dutton? Helped him get to where is now._

Karen continued, “Words going to get back to him. About tonight. It’s-,” she took a deep breath, shuddering, “It’s not going to stop. Not till he’s gone.”

She met his gaze. Frank spoke the next words with calculated coolness “He’s a dead man.”

Karen gave a small nod of understanding. “I’ll back off these next couple of weeks.”

“You’re damn right you will. Not till I get this sorted out.”

“Not till  _we_  get this sorted out. I won’t have you clean up my messes.”

He glanced over at her, tight lipped. There was no point arguing with her.

She wanted to question him-how? You’re one man-a soldier rebelling against a king and his army- but the words dancing on her tongue were fleeting and faded fast.

Karen recognized the familiar road to the cabin where Frank holed up in now and then. The storm was letting up, fading to a faint drizzle.

They parked and walked hand in hand to the cabin- the scent of the forest amplified by the rain.

Frank opened the door and lead her in to the small space. She sat on the edge of the cot, hugging herself.

He spoke quietly, brows furrowed, “We lay low ok? Get some food in you, get some sleep, and we’ll figure this out.”  He crouched down as he gently helped slip her out of her heels.

A quiet whimper escaped and her shoulders shook silently.

“Hey- hey” Frank cupped a hand around her neck, bringing his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes, hearing her breathing slow. “I’ve got you. You hear me? You’re not alone.”

Karen trusted Frank with her life. There was truth in his words, she knew he wouldn’t leave her and with the realization, relief started to set in.

She laid on the cot watching him as he heated up a can of soup, her heart beating slow. Karen felt herself drift off. The adrenaline wearing off and the exhaustion setting in.

Frank’s thoughts hadn’t settled. He glanced over his shoulder at the blonde dozing softly on the cot and the rage that held been building stilled. Her effect on him no longer surprised him-it had at first. Who was she to reign him in? To quiet the feral beast that he was?

She wasn’t a saint; no angel either. He didn’t think he was smart enough to put a name to it. He could only describe her as grounding.

Getting to Fisk and trying to beat him at his own game would not happen overnight. He’d always been on the list. Tonight’s events only moved it right to the top.

Frank had wanted a war. Brokenly admitted how much he needed one.

Well, he got one.


	6. Burn/You Should Know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kastle Week put on by these lovely [folks](http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Day 6: Burn/ You Should Know Where I'm Coming From by Banks ( [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjT79oa59D0) )

****

You ought to know where I'm coming from  
How I was alone when I burned my home  
And all of the pieces were torn and thrown  
You should know where I'm coming from

The whole thing was stupid. She knew that and she knew the shitstorm that would find her back at her apartment. The shitstorm being Frank Castle. 

Karen clutched her the back of her arm as she jogged back to her parked car. Away from the gunfire, away from her deceptive informant, and away from The Punisher.

She got in the car, groaning at the pain. She’d been grazed. It was superficial, but it still hurt like a motherfucker. 

But it could have been worse. A lot worse.

Back in her apartment she let the door slam shut as she shucked off her jacket and headed to the bathroom.

She hadn’t willingly walked into a fire fight. She certainly didn’t intend to cross paths with Frank on a rampage. She always looked into her CI’s as best she could, getting a few tips from Brett-but there was always risk and tonight she was on the unlucky side.

And now? She was angry at herself and her informant.

Karen gently removed her shirt and pulled out the first aid kit she’d put together, grabbing the sterile gauze and soap before taking a seat on the edge of the tub. She turned the faucet and held the shower head over the shallow wound, hissing at the burn from the contact of the water. It was not bad at all-the top layer of her skin taken off, red, and bruised around the edges. Karen let the water run over the wound for a few minutes. The initial burn fading to a constant ache. She cleaned it out more thoroughly before she finished patching it up.

She sighed and leaned her head against the wall, shutting her eyes. They’d met outside of the club. The owners being involved in an underground ring of human trafficking. She’d listened to the guy run the conversation around in circles- he was dodgy, on edge. Karen had spoken softly, but firmly- tried to get any information she could but, red flags were already raised and she started to try to remove herself.

Then she’d heard gunshots and shit hit the fan. It all happened so fast.

Her flighty “friend” ran and she’d started to move away from the scene when she heard windows shatter and a burst of pain in her arm caused her to stumble. She looked back briefly before jogging back to her car. At that point, Frank had exited the building and saw her. The stoic look turned to confusion, but it didn’t last long as his attention turned back to the fight that had followed him outside.

Karen opened her eyes at the sound of her door opening and slamming shut. She winced. Her neighbors were going to hate her. The sound of heavy boots hitting the floor approaching the bathroom.

“Karen!?” his voice was strained, wound tight. He came in the bathroom. She looked up and saw him glance at the bandage before his eyes met hers. Angry. Still full of rage from the fight.

“I’m fine. Just a graze.” She said softly. He was silent. She couldn’t help but notice his finger twitch against his leg. Karen got up and brushed past him, walking into the living room and sat down on the couch. She was waiting for his control to break. Preparing herself to navigate through rough waters.

Frank followed her out slowly and sat on the edge of the chair kiddie corner to the couch. He glanced up and exhaled, “Jesus, what the fuck were you doing there Karen?”. He looked at her intently.

“I was set to meet a guy, seemed like a reliable source. Something to help connect the dots, maybe get some names about the intermediaries in this whole thing, even sounded like a possible location of where they’re holding the girls. I had no idea that it would turn out the way did. I’d heard the higher ups were out of town-,”

Frank interrupted, impatiently. “The meeting got switched. All the bosses were there with their security detail- guns for hire; it was a last minute change. I barely made it in time.”

“What’d you get?” Karen asked.

Frank shook his head, “That’s not the point of this conversation.” His voice had been hard and cold, as he kept glancing at her arm. “Stop trying to do the police’s job. You were too close tonight.”

She scoffed, “The police’s job? That’s rich coming from you.” His jaw clenched. She softened her tone, “Look Frank, I didn’t purposefully-,” she broke and inhaled sharply, “I was blindsided ok? I had what looked to be a good lead but-,”

“Bullshit. You’re digging too deep. Didn’t the shit with Reyes teach you anything? “What are you trying to prove!?”

She stared up at him in disbelief. Exasperated she lashed out. “Are you serious Frank!? I’m not trying to  _prove_ something. I’m doing my fucking job! I’m sorry that it went bad tonight- I didn’t intentionally get in your way, but this is me-you should know that by now!”

Karen shook her head, the fight leaving her, “Look. I’m not like you or Matt. I’m just-,”she rubbed her eyes, “I’m just doing what I can. Writing and going after these guys-I feel like I have some…some sense of control.”

Karen shrugged, eyeing Frank wearily, who listened silently, “It helps keep the nightmares away….I actually get sleep at night knowing that I’m doing something. If anyone can understand that you should.”

Frank made a sound of acknowledgment, a low rumble in his throat. “I’m not asking you change.” He said calmly. “Just be more careful. Let me know when you’re going in to something like this ok?”

Karen nodded, “I will, but I know what your nights are like. I didn’t want to-,” She heard him huff.

“Stop. You let me know ok?” He stressed. There was a brief pause before Frank spoke softly, “I can’t lose you too. I can’t-I can’t go through that again.”

And with his words Karen understood. It wasn’t anger that was driving the argument. It was fear. The bullets flying tonight. Her, stumbling to the ground. Everything from that night rushed back and the images of his family-everything he loved in the world-torn apart and gone leaving behind empty bodies. He couldn’t do it again.

Frank Castle wasn’t used to fear. Shit-he didn’t care if he made it out at the end of the night as long as he went out swinging. But her-no, he didn’t want to find her in the street, beaten and bloody. It could have been his bullet that grazed her arm tonight.

Karen leaned forward and lifted a palm to his cheek, tilting his chin up so he’d look at her. His stubble rough on her skin. Compassion washed over her as she saw the pain in his eyes. Her voice was low, “You won’t.”

Frank took his hand in hers, lowering it. It had been impulsive of her. Her mind immediately making excuses.

She expected him to drop it, but he held her hand in a soft grip, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over her skin. His brow was furrowed, looking lost in thought. She’d pretend she didn’t notice the way his gaze had paused on her lips before meeting her eyes. “I’ll make sure of it Ma’am.”

The days of using Karen Page as bait had long since passed.

He gestured to her arm, “How is it?”. She glanced down at the bandage. She’d been so caught up in their argument the pain had faded in the background. The wound throbbed. “Hurts, but I’ll be ok. I’ll keep an eye on it, give Claire a call if it gets worse.”

Frank nodded, “Good. Still gonna scar though.”

Karen smiled and shrugged, “Eh, that’s ok.”

He rose from the chair. “I gotta go back out. Managed to get some info out of those shitheads. Gonna see if it adds up.”

“Let me know if you find anything.”  

“Oh, you’ll know.”

Over the next few days she tried to rework her story. It was less of trying to determine her next move since Frank had taken care of the men in charge. Now it came to racing to crime scenes-following the trail of body’s Frank left in his wake.  In his own way he’d led the cops to the victims.

So her story changed.


	7. Lasts/ It Will Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How sad am I that Kastle week is over? Pretty sad. Check out all the amazing work [here](http://kastlenetwork.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Day 7: Lasts/It will come back by Hozier ( [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMhZ18EmlFA) )

 

I know who I am when I'm alone  
Something else when I see you  
You don't understand, you should never know  
How easy you are to need

Winter and Spring passed quickly. Summer on the other hand was dragging on and Hell’s Kitchen truly burned with a heat that could only come from Hell itself. Karen felt smothered by it.

It was especially bad the week she lost her air conditioning, uttering a “You’ve got to be kidding me” under her breath when she’d walked into her apartment. She’d expected her apartment to be refreshingly cool.Instead she was met with thick warmth. And it wasn’t going to be a quick fix. Perfect.

This is what she got for staying in the apartment. The bullet holes were covered and painted over. But the memories lingered-the glass shattering, the weight of him, the fear.

Maybe it was a sign. 

Honestly, it was more that she was sick of moving.

Trouble followed her and her home. No point in getting a nice place to have it shot up again. Besides, her land lord begrudgingly took care of it. Karen Page may not have been a lawyer, but her legal familiarity made him weary of trying to push the costs on her.

Plus, the fact that she’d been associated with The Punisher didn’t hurt.

But the link seemed to be wearing off as time passed. He’d made his grand entrance that night, started rustling bushes, and followed whatever escaped promptly out of town. Chicago she thought.

To Ellison’s surprise, she wasn’t keeping as close of tabs on his current movements, rather she was locked on his past. Kandahar had been occupying her spare time-even took some weekend trips on her days off to follow some leads. And so she sorted through documents, practically worthless with all the redaction’s-practically.

Karen was good at filling in the blank spaces.

She shuffled through pages upon pages in the apartment. This wasn’t the kind of work done in coffee shops and she had too many random visitors in the office. She didn’t want to explain herself.

Yeah, Ellison, maybe she still is keeping tabs.

So home it was- in a tank and shorts with droplets of sweat trailing down her neck as she glanced through the documents.

Frank had been brutally honest with her except for their last exchange in the woods. He’d shut down and shut her out when all the pieces were so close to falling in place.

Karen pleaded with him, desperately, _“Tell me the truth. Tell me for Maria. Tell me for Lisa. Tell me for Frank Jr._

Everything she said was rushed. The more Schoonover taunted the more she felt her hold on him slipping. He’d held his breath and avoided her gaze.

_“But if you kill him you will never know”._

Frank had looked up abruptly, let out a breath, and then dragged Schoonover away.

It all came crashing down and it hurt.  

_“You do this and you are the monster that they say you are.”_

It wasn’t about the physical act of violence. She knew what he was capable of. Karen understood fully well the desire to kill the person that took everything from you. To try and regain the power stolen from you in one moment.

It was the conversation in the prison that haunted her, the way he asked her, _“What if I find these men who did that to my family, what if… what if nothing changes? What if this is just me now?_

_“Then don’t you deserve to know that too?”_

That’s why she’d fought so vehemently. “ _But if you kill him you will never know”._

That bullet through his skull did damage. She never forgot that. He wasn’t whole. But would anything have changed if he hadn’t pulled the trigger? He’d still have the memories. Still be in that heightened state. Could he really have let Schoonover live?

Her questions didn’t matter really. The trigger had been pulled months ago, but try as she might-the questions were endless.

Not today though. Thoughts of Kandahar were put aside. In a separate pile on her kitchen table. Today was work.

Karen was about to grab another cup of coffee when she heard the brush of boots outside her door. She stepped quietly to grab her gun, waiting for a knock that never came.

“Who is it?” She called out, leaning against the door frame.

“Frank.” It was quiet, but unmistakably him.

Her eyes widened as she undid the chain and opened the door, gun still gripped in her other hand.He hadn’t changed. Face still carrying faded bruises. Eyes dark. Mouth sternly set. Karen opened the door wider and his eyes darted to the .380.

“What the hell are you doing here Frank?” Her voice was hard and cold.

He pointed to the mess on her kitchen table and he stepped passed her into the apartment, “Maybe I should ask you the same thing?”.

Anger stirred in her. She hadn’t asked him in. He may not have been dressed in his Punisher gear, but his current composure was one of intimidation. She damn well didn’t appreciate that. Not in her home.

Even so, Karen had the sense that he was holding back. She felt like she was dancing around a live wire.

She backed up unconsciously. Karen followed his gaze, about to speak before he continued.

“Thought I was dead to you, huh?” His tone was low and controlled. She almost shivered, as she eyed the finger at his side that tapped restlessly.

“Then there I am, following up on some old members of my squad and I overhear about a pretty blonde trying to dig up shit from Kandahar.”

Karen huffed as she set the gun back on her dresser before turning to him, her eyes narrowing at the man looming in her kitchen, “Oh, I’m sorry Frank. I didn’t know I needed your permission.” It was juvenile, but she was fed up with the condescension.

His cool demeanor broke.

“What the hell are you expecting huh? You think whatever you find will help you understand me hmm? Bullshit. I know who I am. I don’t need to be understood.” He shook his head, “Can’t let the fucking past lie.”

She stood her ground, bitterness brewing to the surface, “Yeah, well-I’m not very good at that. I guess I felt like I needed to play catch up after that night.”

“That right? Well you shouldn’t. Why don’t you back the fuck off and leave me in peace.” He was breathing heavy.

Karen listened silently, leaning against the kitchen counter. His words stung, but her retort was quiet.

“Are you at peace Frank?” If the comment affected him the only hint was the slight clench of his jaw. “Did killing him help?” 

Frank didn’t answer.

You know I wouldn’t have judged you for Kandahar and I won’t when I find out what happened, but everything…. everything we worked for and you just-,” she fought to find the words.

Frank interrupted, “He killed my family. And you expected me to sit there and have a little chat? Fuck, Karen-he deserved to die.”

“Yeah? And how did you feel after pulling the trigger? You get your peace? Or do you still feel empty?” She spoke the words desperately, trying to stifle down old memories. All seven shots worth.

“It felt pretty damn good actually.” He uttered it with a low growl.

With her arms crossed, she shook her head and bit her lip. That same hollowness from that night was returning. 

“You know you’re taking all this pretty goddamn personal.” He said the next words with genuine curiosity. “What happened to you?

She inhaled, sharply. “What?”

“Something happened right?” The words were cold. And her breathing quickened under his stare.

He continued, voice gruff and low, wavering in control. “Yeah, something did. Maybe you’re trying to fix yourself huh? Or maybe just bury it all down with that” He gestured at the folders on the table. His gaze was scrutinizing and she wouldn’t meet it. Frank scowled. “Looks like we both have secrets.”

The words were caught in her throat. She wanted to hurt him. Like he hurt her. Karen knew he’d never physically touch her, but his words were like a slap to her face. Biting and resonating.

“Stay away from Kandahar-that’s all I came to say. Get on with your life. Stay out of mine.” He’d slipped back to the quiet intensity.

And just like that, he left. Slamming the door his wake.

She jumped.

That was the second time he’d slammed a door in her face. The second and the last.

Karen ran out after him, catching him in the stairwell. His face lit with shock as she pushed him into the corner.

“That’s the last fucking time you slam a door in my face.” She hissed. “You don’t want my help. Fine. But I’m not going to stop ok? You were involved in some heavy shit? Welcome to the goddamn club. You want to go on with your crusade? Fine. But don’t ask me to stop mine”

She started to back away, breathless. “We can be dead to each other.I can deal with that. I’ve been getting by on my own. But I remember us working together Frank and being honest with each other and that was good. I’m not asking you to change…I just wish….I don’t want to end things like this. I may be one of the few-but I respect you Frank and I thought you respected me.”

His eyes stayed trained to the stairs below. Finger twitched at his side, “You done?”

Fucking stubborn as hell.

Karen sighed, “Yeah, Frank, I’m done.”

She turned away, walking back upstairs, steps heavy.

Frank felt rooted in place. He didn’t leave till he heard her door shut softly.

There was only silence.

Karen didn’t cry. She’d shed her tears on the side of the road that night. Bathed in the misty glow of headlights and broken glass.

* * *

The next day there was a knock on her door.

She saved her document and got up from her laptop. Peering through the peep hole she grimaced when she saw it was Frank. He had files gripped tight in one hand.

Karen paused, in front of the door. Hearing the creak of floor boards on the other side of the door, he spoke.“I’m sorry Karen.”

She breathed in sharply. The sound of her name on his lips was unfamiliar, but carried promise.

“You tell me what’s got you practically jumping out of diner booths and I’ll tell you about Kandahar.” One secret for another.

She smiled despite herself, opening the door- gesturing him in. Karen felt like she was starting all over with him. Crossing the red tape for the first time.

Frank shuffled in somewhat awkwardly. Karen made her way to the kitchen, filling the silence with small talk, “Sorry about the heat. My air conditioner is shot. You still want coffee?”

“Always.”

He took a seat at her table, stiffly. Frank glanced at the open document on the screen, eyes scanning. Gruffly, he said, “You’re on the right track with this one.”

She offered up a smile as she pulled out another mug. “Yeah? I’m glad to hear it. This case has been giving me trouble.”

“Mmm I’m sure you’ll manage.” He said, accepting the coffee, murmuring a soft “Thank you”. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Karen could work with that.

She took a sip out of her own cup before leaning back in her chair, “Ok Frank. I know your past for the most part. Here’s mine.”

Karen walked him through the events of last year and he listened intently. He waited patiently when she stumbled with her words and whispering “take your time” when she paused to collect herself. Talking with Frank was a small act of letting go and she felt the weight being lifted off her chest, slowly but surely as she spoke. They talked through the afternoon, pouring over the documents he brought and comparing it to what she found. Putting the pieces together fed the ever-present hunger. If it happened to be “fixing herself” in the process, well, she’d let him have that one.


End file.
